


A Garden of Our Old, Ashen Dresses

by magicites



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:25:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicites/pseuds/magicites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flowers, and Squiddles, and hidden layers concealed by deceptive smiles, and giggling together late at night under the covers, at anything and everything.</p><p>For all their differences, they work quite well together.</p><p>[A series of unrelated Rose/Jade drabbles.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Garden of Our Old, Ashen Dresses

**Author's Note:**

> As with my other drabble series, each chapter will have it's own warning in the summary!
> 
> In this one, warning for mentions of alcoholism.

It had been two years since you had last seen Jade Harley. Maybe three. It was as if one morning, she was in your life, sitting next to you on the bus (that, as you once told her in a fit of indignant anger, you only took because you refused to allow your mother any extra chances to cart you around in her luxury cars like some sort of designer doll), and the next, she wasn’t, gone in a blur of alcoholism and arguments that you can only half-remember.

The half that you do remember: Jade’s cheeks wet with tears, her glasses fogged over until you could no longer see her eyes; your cheek throbbing in dull pain, maybe from a punch, maybe from a slap; waiting in the airport for hours on end for your luggage.

Arriving at a college on the other side of the country, bleary-eyed and barely able to stumble through campus to your new dorm. Just like that, your life as a minor, as a high schooler, as Rose Lalonde, Disaster Extraordinaire, was over.

You’re much better off now, if you do say so yourself. You turn the other direction the moment you smell alcohol, ignoring the screaming in your head telling you to  _give in,_   _just one more drink can’t hurt, you won’t become addicted again_.

You’ve reconnected with some old friends of yours. John was exhilarated to see you again, and for the next two hours after you added to him on Facebook your screen was covered in messages about all of his new friends and every new movie he’s watched since you last talked to him.

Dave was equally as thrilled, but his joy manifested through punching you so hard in the arm it left a bruise, then taking off his glasses, the same shield that protects him from the world, and letting you shine into the very core of his heart.

That was the first and last time you’ve ever seen a Strider cry.

As for Jade, well…

When you arrived back in your hometown, the first thing you did was send her a message, asking if she could meet you at the coffee shop you used to adore as a teenager. She responded seconds later, and it was nothing more than a simple _ok,_  but it was all you really needed.

You now sit at a lone table in the corner, tracing the curving designs on the wood with a single, thin finger. The nail polish covering your blunt, bitten down nails is black and laced with cracks. You doubt that Jade will care.

It’s strange, how much warmer the world around you now feels. Before, you only remember a constant chill following you in every room, and a deep sense of longing. Oh, how you longed to get out.

Now, you’re not sure if you can leave.

The bell above the door chimes, polished metal twinkling a cheery hello, and your head snaps up. A girl looks around the room, hand tightly clasped around the strap running down to the messenger bag resting on her hip, and even though her dark hair is bone-straight down to her butt and she towers over everyone else in the room, those electric green eyes against her dark skin tell you that it can’t be anyone other than Jade.

Those same eyes settle on you, and they’re so bright and so much more shocking now that you haven’t seen them in years that a shiver runs down your spine. She blinks, and breaks out into a large grin, comically oversized buckteeth and pointed canines forming the most ridiculously heartwarming smile you’ve ever seen.

“Rose!” She shouts - nearly screams, and rushes over to you. You stand up to greet her, expecting to be formal, and she nearly bowls you over, folding you in her arms like you’ve never belonged anywhere else but here.

Her head fits perfectly on top of yours. You don’t even mind that she’s mussing your hair, despite the near hour it took to get it to lie just the way you wanted it too.

“Rosie,” she says, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head - she’s always been an affectionate girl, but this move makes a light blush rise to your cheeks. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I…” you falter, not because you can’t return the sentiment, but because this level of pure  _sincerity_  still shocks you, “the feeling is likewise, Jade.”

She releases you only after five solid minutes of hugging and kissing every part of your face she can reach, and you spend the next two hours talking about anything and everything.

You each drink three cups of coffee, and neither of you care.

It feels nice to be back where you belong.


	2. unless we're riding side by side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why care about a fairy tale when reality is so much better?

There once was a rumor thaat spread throughout the kingdom. It told the tale of the most beautiful girl in the land, who was trapped within a lonely castle with the greatest riches ever heard of. Any brave knight that tried to conquer the castle always came back empty handed. There was no dragon to keep guard; no moat of pure lava to traverse across. Only a vast structure full of traps, most likely designed to keep heroes out and the lovely girl in.

This rumor grew so vast over such a short amount of time that it morphed into a tall tale, one told to children as a bedtime story. No one believed that such a castle could exist out there.

No one, except for Rose Lalonde.

According to her family, she and her brother, Dave, were both destined for greatness. Dave was blessed with a strong body that could resist the daily pain and exhaustion a knight had to live with, while Rose possessed the beauty, wit, and riches to become a noble lady within the king’s court. She could even win the Prince’s affections, if she presented herself correctly.

If only things were that easy. Alas, Rose longed to escape the dreary, monotonous life of a noblewoman, while Dave yearned to stay home and follow his real dream: painting.

When the time came for Dave’s training as a knight to begin, Rose kissed his cheek, bound her chest under a layer of thick bandages, and wished him the best of luck.

She did not hear her true name for the next five years. Only when she was sent out on her first quest as a knight (a simple delivery job to a neighboring kingdom, something far below her skill level) did she allow her hair to grow out and her true name to be said.

People reacted to her presence, definitely. A female knight was something that was utterly unheard of. Many towns drove her out, thinking her to be some sort of demon.

Over time, she grew bitter. Every single miserable day, she was faced with discrimination for trying to fight against her supposed role. She was no longer taken seriously as a knight, despite her skill and intelligence. She became a glorified servant for the nobles she once could have walked among.

That was when she heard the tales. It was too good to be true, of course, but Rose Lalonde was a desperate woman looking for a way to escape the hell she lived in.

And so, she departed to search for this supposed princess. She searched all of the countryside, traversing through even the muddiest of swamps and murkiest of tunnels.

It took another year of solely traveling before she found it, but once she happened upon the shambled remains of a tall, golden castle, she knew she had reached her destination. 

She whispered goodbye into the mane of her faithful steed (a strong noble stallion named F'thulu), and stepped over the rubble into the building. She had yet to clear the main entrance when she spotted a girl (with green eyes so bright they nearly glowed and long, silky dark hair trailing down her back) glaring at her, crossbow aimed right at Rose’s heart.

“I don’t need to be saved!” The beautiful girl shouted. “I’m perfectly happy here!” She readied her crossbow. “And I don’t have any gold, either! They’re just a bunch of books, I swear.”

So much for getting rich, though with all of her heart Rose wished to escape from the hateful stares of others. An idea formed within her head.

“Perhaps you would like some company here?”

The crossbow clattered to the stone floor with a loud, metallic clang. “Huh?”

“I promise I would not try to rescue you. Actually, I suppose you’d be rescuing me, in a sense.”

“You want…to stay here?”

“Yes. I’m one of the strongest knights in the land, though I am treated like trash simply because I’m a woman.” Rose explained.

The girl’s face fell with sympathy. “That’s terrible! I guess you can stay here. It does get pretty lonely sometimes.”

As any good knight should, Rose took the girl’s hand and bowed, laying a gentle kiss upon her knuckles. “I am forever in your debt, Miss…”

“Jade. I’m Jade.” Rose suppressed a laugh at the nervous quality of her voice. 

“And I am Rose.”

Rose looked up, and was greeted by a beautiful, dazzling smile that shined just as bright as the stars that guarded her at night.

Jade gently pulled her up, though their hands remained joined even as she began to walk, chattering excitedly about finally having a guest. Apparently Rose was long overdue to enjoy a nice cup of tea. She couldn’t help but agree.

This wasn’t entirely how the tale was supposed to end, but the two woman preferred it this way. Fairytales were, after all, stories to put children to sleep at night. Real life was so much more enjoyable.


End file.
